


of all the things you said and done

by Solchen



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Sibling Incest, Spoilers, also very major spoilers for dangan ronpa 1 and 0, if you read hard enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solchen/pseuds/Solchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were a soldier. She was a commander, a dictator. But you ended up following her voice, following every instruction until your mind felt mad and your balance felt weak. You are Mukuro Ikusaba, but for now, you are Junko Enoshima. </p><p>My take on Mukuro's behavior before her death. Major spoilers, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of all the things you said and done

**Author's Note:**

> i cant name things for laughs and giggles. enjoy?

“Follow the plan.”

And then followed by a string of laughter.

And silence.

The sequence rang out again and again in your mind like a childishly cruel looped song, even in her sickly sweet way of speaking, it still felt cold and detached, merely a simple reminder than you are to listen and follow. But soldiers almost never argued, soldiers almost never raised their voice, soldiers most certainly almost never opposed an order from their commander. You were a soldier. She was a commander, a dictator. But you ended up following her voice, following every instruction until your mind felt mad and your balance felt weak. You are Mukuro Ikusaba, but for now, you are Junko Enoshima.

Junko Enoshima the doubted, the least trust-worthy and the traitor amongst Hope’s Peak.

The school ground was oddly quiet at night, different from its usual populated self in the daylight. The air felt brisk and cold. As you drew up to Ryouko, part of the plan, _all part of the bigger plan_ , your lips curved into a wide smile as you sensed fear in her. Like a maddened hunting hound toying with its prey, you dug your nails deep inside her tongue (not hard enough to scar but enough to draw blood), toying with her the same way. “What’s your name?” “I told you to say it, didn’t I?” You watched her falling to the ground, spitting out crimson after crimson, quivering helplessly like a rabbit trapped in the corner. It would be okay, for only you understood her the most. There were some part of you that wished to stop but the commands kept you going, maniac chants after another. You talked the same way your sister did; you laughed the same way your sister did. It was perfect. You executed the plan perfectly.

Your sister looked amazing when she analyzed the patterns you have given to her and escaped from the snake-like man. Your sister looked amazing when she murdered, oh she _murdered_ her crush and in pain, kicked his corpse around, laughing, crying, despairing. Your sister looked amazing when after she obtained the tricks to mind erasing, told you to return to your class with a hint of a smile on her face.

You did a perfect job that day.

Not today.

* * *

 

Junko Enoshima would never cut out for a reality survival game show. She would be sent home right on episode one, where all contestants are given a fair chance, getting laughed at by TV viewers of all ages. Junko Enoshima would be murdered again and again due to her unstable personality, her Cruella De Vile antics and her tempting looks. If there should be something of problem, their whole plans would fall down hill. Her plan.

You couldn’t bear to see it. So you did what a soldier would, must do. You tried to protect it. Wide, toothy grin on your face and a loud-pitched voice, you tried to blend in as a Fashion Girl, to gain their trusts. You became one of the fifteen students, as if Mukuro Ikusaba and Junko Enoshima never existed. Their minds were fragile from the thoughts of being locked in, but you managed through the first murder. Sleepless nights holding onto your switchblade, being constantly on edge almost tired you. (Almost.)

(Because when soldiers stand out, they are killed without a doubt. Soldiers must blend in as if they are one of the same.)

You enjoyed your role more than needed to in the daytime. You began to tell Naegi about your past, about your feelings on things like a teenage girl in crisis. The more you talk, the more your heart felt relieved and lighter and so you talked and talked, immersing yourself in your own world.

Naegi Makoto listened and understood.

Junko Enoshima listened and misunderstood.

* * *

 

The gymnasium was quiet in sound, all most everyone choked on his voice as Monobear announced his trial rules. If you had to judge based on appearances, Leon seemed like he was dying on the spot that very second. (He was the killer. He didn’t have the killer eyes, so that’s why he was crumbling under pressure.) You swallowed back your own thoughts and walked forward, pointing your finger at the stuffed toy. You knew your sister could see you directly from it, so you decided to pull yourself together and put on a show.

Just for her.

You yelled, feeling anger bursting in your vein. But it wasn’t your own words you were speaking in; it was the script (It was always the script.). You drew closer; this time you didn't feel a hunting dog craving for the attention it gets after catching the prey, more like a sheltered, angry Chihuahua trying to flash its teeth at a stranger nearby. Oh, only if Junko knew she held back her own pride for her sake.

She smiles inwardly at the thought as she stomped down (hard) on the toy, feeling the inside’s machines being shaken and crushed.

In a millisecond, you caught its mouth curving into a smile, jokingly staring at you. After it, the toy released an angry cry and the deafening sound of flesh being wounded, bones being broken filled your ears. When you came to be, the spears had pierced you, leaving you weakly standing like a ragdoll, barely clinging on.

“Huh?”

The sickening smile on Monobear’s face widened. Your time is up, it meant, tick tock, little rabbit. How far was your rabbit hole, big sis? How far were you going to fall?

“What?”

Junko. It was your sister’s idea. She betrayed you without a second thought. Junko was behind the bear the whole time. There was no other explanation.

“Isn’t.... that....... strange?”

Your head scrambled for an explanation, short-circuiting in the process. Was it because you changed your approach to the situation? Or was it simply out of the blue?

“Why...... was.... I?”

At this point, you barely could even breathe. So you felt tired and let go. You two years worth of friends’ strangled screams muffled your ears as you fell down, ending your character arc. You didn’t bother to close your eyes, knowing it would be futile to do. A soldier dies unknown, uncelebrated. At the end of the day, their corpse gets dragged to the morgue, stacked away for eternity and they became numbers listed on newspapers, bringing grimace to the one at home. That is simply the fate of a soldier. You died protecting something and you died forgotten.

* * *

 

The unforgiving smile on the bear’s face simply didn’t change as it watched the bomb below the mask explode, causing the remaining students to cring in horror.

But maybe, somewhere, behind the monitor screen, on the spur of the moment, a tear was shed. How very despair-inducing, she would say. And then she would laugh as if her world just came crashing down and brightened at the same time.


End file.
